


God Send Me Well To Keep

by Biscuit Lion (cookiethelion)



Category: 16th Century CE RPF, Tudor Dynasty RPF
Genre: F/M, Misses Clause Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-21 17:14:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17047274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cookiethelion/pseuds/Biscuit%20Lion
Summary: In which Anne becomes Henry VIII's fourth wife.





	God Send Me Well To Keep

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dialux](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dialux/gifts).



> This was fun to write, thank you Dialux for the prompt! I played fast and loose a little with the timeline in some places; and dialogue in italics indicates that the line is spoken in German.

Anne had only been 11 when Sibylle married; and nine years on, at the age of 20, she could hardly remember it. The ceremony had taken place in a hall decked out in gilded tapestries, and between the hundred or so guests, there had been much chatting and laughter set to the tune of the musicians who played all night long. Her strongest memory, though, was the feeling that all this was too lavish for her taste—when she would marry Francis, she would keep it clean and simple. The tapestries could go, for a start.

At least Sibylle’s wedding ring was pretty. Her sister’s arrival came ten days after her engagement to Francis had ended; and as Anne was expressing all her grievances, she tried to keep her eyes off her sister’s ring. The centrepiece of the gold band was a diamond, and the rest was inlaid with pearls of varying shades of white and pink.

“ _Oh, Anna_ ,” said Sibylle, “ _don’t be so upset. You and Amalia will find good husbands. I am sure of it._ ”

“ _What if it never happens_?” said Anne. Why did she keep looking down? The last time they’d met had been when Sibylle was six months pregnant with her youngest child—shouldn’t her aged, maturing face be more interesting than a never-changing ring?

“ _It will, my sister. Indeed, I love Johann as much as I love you and Amalia and Wilhelm—and you shall find a husband who will love you the same_.” Smiling, Sibylle closed her hand over Anne’s—and although Anne looked up, she could feel the pearl inlays gently denting her knuckles.

***

Anne was used to sitting for portraits, but she couldn’t stop fidgeting the rings on her fingers. Maybe it was because she knew that Henry would see her picture—she might have a husband at last!—or maybe she didn’t want a rift to occur between herself and Amalia. She hadn’t seen Sibylle for four years, and they lived in the same country. How were they going to cope if one of them became the Queen of England?

“ _Madame Cleves_ ,” she heard Hans say from behind the canvas, “ _please stay still_.”

Anne nodded. “ _My apologies, Master Holbein_ ,” she said. “ _I am most distracted right now_.”

“ _I understand_.” Hans’ tone was genuine. “ _If it helps, we can rest for five minutes_.”

“ _Your offer is kind, but it is unnecessary. I will be much more at ease once you have drawn all that you need_.”

Anne clasped her hands together. There was every chance that Henry would reject them both. He had his eye on other women anyway—they hadn’t even been his first choice; he had wanted the widowed Duchess of Milan—and she was sure there were plenty of single royal ladies and noblewomen in other countries.

Still, she thought, it would be nice to have a wedding ring at last.

***

God send me well to keep.

There was something beautiful about that phrase, Anne thought as she turned her wedding ring around. It didn’t matter that it lacked the gems embedded in Sibylle’s ring; the engraving made it just as beautiful in its own way.

She had fought with her sister for this. They had shed all those tears of joy, relief, regret, and misery, and hugged and shared tender kisses upon learning the news; and, on the day of Anne’s departure, had promised over and over to write frequently—because promising once just didn’t feel enough—all that had been done for this ring that Anne now wore.

“What are you thinking of?” Anne heard Henry say. She jumped, unaware that he’d entered their bedroom at all, and looked at him as he sat down on his side of the bed. Henry looked back at her, and rigidly smiled and added, “my sweetheart.”

“It matters not, my dear,” said Anne.

Anne closed her eyes as she kissed Henry. His beard seemed to prick her jaw, contrasting his smoother hand which was cupping her left breast. Henry broke the kiss first, and he rested his hand over Anne’s instead.

“You seem tired,” said Henry. His tone seemed lukewarm. “Goodnight, sweetheart.” He pecked Anne on the cheek and lied down.

“Goodnight, my dear,” said Anne, just as Henry turned over to sleep on his side. She stared at his back for a moment, and then she too lied down to get to sleep.

She kept turning in bed all night, unable to close her eyes for too long each time. Perhaps it was because her environment had changed again—her first few nights in England had been restless too—or perhaps she was unused to sharing a bed with someone else. She was careful to avoid elbowing or smacking Henry whenever she was awake.

Over the next few weeks, she had no issue with sleep. There were so many pageants boat rides and jousting tournaments happening in her honour, and so many merry evening feasts and parties, that by the time she could finally retire for the night, she slept from the moment she was lying down. When she wasn’t attending events, she had various court affairs to organize, which turned out to be just as tiring.

Her own personal court took the longest to work; the list of eligible names was half as long as the list of roles available. In the end, she found she liked it best to be surrounded by four ladies in particular; Anne Parr, Eleanor Paston, Jane Boleyn, and Katherine Howard.

If Anne had to give a reason, it was probably because of how varied the four ladies’ lives and personalities were. Anne Parr had been in court since Katherine of Aragon’s time, and she seemed to be one of the kindest ladies-in-waiting; Eleanor was wise and mild mannered; Jane’s tongue was a little sharp at times, but there was a certain liveliness about her; and although Katherine was fresh out of education, she was witty, smiled a lot, and paid attention to what everyone had to say.

At first, Anne hardly communicated with them, though that was mainly down to her poor English and her ladies’ equally broken German. Two months on, though, Anne understood what Anne Parr meant when she said—

“I hope your Grace is with child. How pleasant it would be to see the Duke of York we all long for.”

Eleanor nodded and turned to Anne. “We all wish every night that your Grace is safe with child.”

Anne put her hand over her stomach. She remembered seeing how Sibylle kept touching her belly whilst she’d been pregnant with Johann Wilhelm. The burgundy dress she’d worn had a waist higher than usual, and the layers of petticoats underneath had made Sibylle’s figure look normal; so when they’d retired early that evening, and had undressed in Sibylle’s old bedroom, Anne hadn’t been prepared to see her sister’s protruding belly.

“ _Come and feel my child_ ,” Sibylle had said as she waved Anne closer to her. Anne had put her hands over her belly, and gasped when she had felt Johann kick. “ _Is he not the liveliest? He quite enjoys bullying his mama_.”

“ _And Fredrick_?” Anne had asked. “ _Was he so restless too_?”

Sibylle had answered by laughing—and it was this laugh that Anne thought of now, as she heard Jane and Katherine also joining in with their wishes.

Anne shook her head. “I know well I am not with child.”

“How is it possible for your Grace to know that,” said Eleanor, “and lie with the King every night?”

“I know it well I am not.” Anne pressed her stomach a little.

“By Our Lady,” said Jane, in a slightly hurried tone, “I think your Grace is still a maid indeed.”

Anne saw Eleanor sharply glance at Jane. She frowned.

“How can I still be a maid,” said Anne, “and sleep every night with the King?”

“There must be more than that.”

“Why? When he comes to bed, he kisses me and takes me by the hand and bids me, ‘goodnight, sweetheart’; and, in the morning, kisses me and bids me, ‘farewell, darling’. Is this not enough?” Besides, what Henry was doing now matched what she’d seen with Sibylle and Johann.

Jane opened her mouth, but Eleanor cut across her to say, “Madam, there must be more than this, or it will be long before we have a Duke of York.”

Anne shirked further back into her seat. “No,” she said, “I am content with this, for I know no more.”

In the evening, Anne returned to the bedroom first. The conversation with her ladies-in-waiting was still weighing on her mind as she examined the headboard of the bed. The entire wood had been intricately carved, but what always caught her attention were the man and woman at the center. The woman was pregnant, just like how Anne remembered seeing Sibylle, but it confused her why the man had an erection. How was this relevant to the pregnant lady?

Besides, Henry had touched her chest during their first night together, but it was something he hadn’t done ever since. Anne wondered if there was something she had done on their first night to get that reaction out of Henry, but as far as she could remember, all she’d done was kiss Henry. It was something they did every night anyway.

Three months in, she began to suspect something was wrong. On the rare occasion she saw Thomas Cromwell, his face seemed to turn red the moment he saw her, and his sentences tended to trail off like he had something to ask her. Anne tried once or twice to encourage him; but after both attempts failed, she wondered if it was best to avoid approaching whatever the topic was.

Besides, there was something else that was more important. During one of the nightly banquets, when the whole court was in attendance, Anne noticed that Henry barely looked at her. Like Henry, Anne was also occupied with other courtiers, noblemen and ladies, ambassadors, and anybody else present; but when she glanced at her husband, rarely did he ever look her way as well. Every time she followed his glance, she saw that he was focused on her ladies-in-waiting.

At first, Anne brushed it off as paranoia. Plenty of the gentlemen present also looked at the ladies; it was just a coincidence with Henry. When this happened at two more banquets though, Anne decided she had to test her husband.

At the next one, she wore a gown made from cloth of gold, and opened the box containing a necklace strung with camo beads. She’d heard from Mary that her mother used to wear it; and she was sure that she’d seen Jane Seymour wear it too in one of her portraits. Anne smiled as she put the necklace on. Surely Henry wasn’t going to miss something that his previous wives wore.

Anne was sure she had never received so many compliments before. All the gentlemen she passed praised her; and when she saw Anne and Eleanor, they were just as enthusiastic.

“Your Grace is the most splendid lady our King has known,” Eleanor was saying just as Jane and Katherine came over.

“Indeed,” said Jane with a slight smile, “your Grace is the most beautiful lady here today.”

Katherine echoed Jane’s words, but Anne saw her looking downwards. For a second, she wanted to cover up the necklace; there was something about the intensity of Katherine’s stare that was disturbing her. Still, she thanked them both; and as Jane and Katherine walked past her, arm-in-arm, she had to keep her face straight when she swore she heard them giggling.

Anne Parr was soon called away by her husband, leaving just Eleanor behind. Then Henry came by, and the moment he saw Anne, he took her hand and stooped down low to kiss it. Anne blushed; Henry had never kissed her hand before. Perhaps this was what she was doing wrong all this time.

“You are very pretty tonight,” said Henry, and he let go of Anne’s hand.

“Thank you,” said Anne. She curtseyed, but when she stood up again, she saw that Henry was looking over her shoulder. As curious as she was, she noticed Eleanor looking at whatever had captured Henry’s attention.

“Many people want my attention still,” said Henry, “and I cannot avoid giving it to them, my Lady.”

“Then go, my Lord.”

The moment Henry passed her, Anne turned to Eleanor. The latter leaned in, and said in a low voice, “Madam, the lady who has captured the King’s eyes has not moved away from behind us.”

Anne turned around. She told herself to stay calm, but her eyes widened when she found herself making eye contact with Katherine Howard.

***

A fortnight later, Henry gifted a ring to Anne.

Anne slipped the diamond topped ring onto her right index finger, and she made sure to put her right hand over her left as she entered her apartments. Eleanor was the first to notice, followed by Katherine, and then Jane and Anne at the same time.

“The King must love you greatly, madam,” said Anne Parr, after she had admired the ring.

“Indeed,” said Anne. She raised the ring to admire the way the light shone through the diamond.

“It is a pretty gift, madam,” said Katherine. “The King is so generous. He bestows so many beautiful gifts to so many people, he must love everybody and hate nobody.”

Anne looked at Katherine. Was she having a go at her? What was that supposed to mean? How was she even supposed to answer; or was it better for her to ignore it?

“The King is indeed a generous man, madam,” said Eleanor. “He has always taken great pleasure in giving gifts to all those close to him and the Queen.”

“Lady Rutland is quite right, madam,” said Jane. Anne didn’t miss the cutting tone of her voice. “Those of us who have been long in the service of the King have all been bestowed gifts in the past, when we were waiting upon the other Queens. I believe Lady Rutland was once given a bracelet of gold.”

Anne meant to stay focused on Jane, but she briefly looked over at Eleanor. Despite the calm demeanour, there was a fieriness in her eyes, which were firmly fixed on Jane.

“The King bestowed a pair of pearl earrings to me during the reign of his second Queen,” Jane continued. “If only we had known that the King would be so kind this morning. I would have worn those earrings today.”

As Anne turned to Eleanor again, she glimpsed Katherine almost succeeding in holding back a giggle. She was more worried by the fact that Eleanor seemed ready to argue back, and she immediately said, “I am pleased to hear the King has always been this kind. How thankful I am to have him as my husband.” Anne changed the subject; and although the mood lightened a little afterwards, the only people who seemed comfortable were Jane and Katherine.

The next day, Anne noticed that Katherine was wearing a new ring. The gold band was embedded with small rubies and emeralds, but the pattern and the shine of the stones reminded Anne of a stained glass window. She wondered for a while about whether to bring it up or not; nobody else seemed to have noticed, for a start, and she had the feeling that if she did mention it, the conversation was only going to harm her the most.

Instead, Anne tried to engage her ladies-in-waiting on a variety of topics, but none of their conversations seemed to last very long. After one particular lull, Jane broke the silence by saying, “Mrs Howard, I believe we have never seen this ring before. Or perhaps I have been ignorant of this particular ring of yours until now?”

Jane leaned forward a little to point at the ring; and it was only then that Anne noticed she was wearing pearl earrings.

“No, Lady Rochford,” said Katherine as she held her hand out. “Nobody of this court has seen this ring yet, for it was given to me by the King only yesterday. How surprised was I by such a gift! But now I too can say that I have also felt the generosity of the King.”

Anne drew in a deep breath. “How wonderful the King is,” she said. She preferred to look at Eleanor instead, who was rapidly blinking.

“How fortunate it is that I chose these earrings today,” said Jane. She brushed her veil back a little further, so the pearls were even more visible. “I had not realised I was thinking of yesterday’s conversation when I chose them this morning. Lady Rutland, I see that you are not wearing the bracelet.”

Eleanor’s smile looked forced. “I dare not wear it, for I cannot be sure that I am cautious enough to avoid damaging such a precious gift.”

“You need not worry. The brooch that Lady Herbert wears now was gifted by the King, and is it not in as much danger of loosing a gem, or being scratched, just like your bracelet?”

Anne Parr shifted in her seat as she spoke, “You are mistaken, Lady Rochford. The brooch the King gave me is similar in shape to the one I wear now.”

“I believe we have already worn out this subject,” said Anne. She was determined to avoid repeating what happened yesterday. “There must be plenty more to discuss. All the court’s affairs cannot possibly resolve around the King’s generous spirit.”

That evening, Anne decided she couldn’t stay quiet about Katherine anymore. She waited for Henry to get into bed before she drew in a breath, and said to him, “My darling, I would like it very much if you could see Katherine Howard no more.”

She shrank back when she saw Henry grit his teeth. She had never seen him loose his temper before, but had heard from Eleanor and Anne just how terrifying his temper could be. They had seen him neglect Catherine of Aragon, and scream at Anne Boleyn.

“My sweetheart,” said Henry in a mostly calm tone, “I see all your ladies only when we are feasting and being merry. I have no other lady in my life than you.”

Anne would have normally smiled, but her unease around Katherine was overwhelming her too much.

“Is this true, my dear?” said Anne.

Henry nodded. “Always,” he said, and he lied down. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight.” Anne also lied down, but for a long time, she just stared at the canopy until, at some point in the night, she drifted off to sleep.

***

Five months into Anne’s marriage, Katherine stopped coming to court, and Jane followed suit the next day.

Anne could breathe easy again now that it was just her and Eleanor and Anne. In the past few weeks, nearly everything that Jane and Katherine had said had been targeted at them; and twice, Anne was sure that they were all about to scream and argue and burst into tears.

Despite their absence, Anne wondered why her remaining ladies seemed even more upset. She was the only person who tried to bring up conversation, and it was also the only time she heard Eleanor or Anne speak. Eventually, Anne asked them, “Is there something troubling you both?”

Eleanor dabbed her dry eyes. “Madam, do not ask,” she said. She looked like she was about to say more, but then her eyes watered; and as she began to wipe away tears, Anne decided to change the subject.

The following day, Anne received the message: she had to move out of Hampton Court.

***

Anne screamed the moment she heard Henry wanted to divorce her.

How could her husband divorce her when he’d been so kind and gentle the last time they’d met? She let her tears streak down her face as she screamed again.

“This must not—” she said, “— _this is a falsehood. It must be_.”

“Madam,” she heard the alarmed messenger say, “my accomplice can speak German—”

“No, I understood you well.” Anne furiously shook her head. It was only going to be even more painful hearing everything again in German. She gasped for air as she wiped some of her tears away. “I must see the King.”

“I am sorry, madam, but the King is—”

“I must see him.” Anne dropped to her knees. “I must hear him speak. He must tell the news to me. I cannot be calm until I have seen and heard Henry. I must see my husband.”

“Madam, please—” Someone tried to make Anne stand up, but she waved her arms and elbowed the air and squealed until she was left alone. “—stand up, please, madam.”

“I shall not stand or leave this room or see any person until I have seen Henry. Tell him he must come here at once.” The moment Anne finished speaking, she burst into a fresh set of tears, and she began to wail.

She had no idea when the messenger left, or when she stopped crying; but when she could be implored to stand up again, she walked around her apartment until she realised the sun had set. She could barely eat anything, and spent most of dinner with her head in her hands and yawning.

Anne had no idea how she managed to sleep that night. When she woke up, she immediately asked for a messenger; and after hastily stepping into a gown and French hood, she paced her sitting room until the messenger arrived.

“Tell the King I have thought of our marriage,” said Anne. She spoke slower to keep her voice stable. “I must kindly request he sends somebody capable of speaking German, and who knows of the plans and arrangements for me if I give the King a favourable answer. I will make my decision if everything is satisfactory.”

The moment the messenger left, Anne slumped into the nearest seat with a sigh. She gripped the armrest as she thought of Anne Boleyn’s fate, and her character; and when her mind drifted to Jane Seymour, and all the praises Eleanor and Anne had sung about her, she knew what she had to do.

***

Anne only began to get used to her new surroundings a fortnight after she had moved out of court.

She knew that Bletchley Palace was never going to be as splendid or as large as Hampton Court. Her new apartments were still decent though, and the gardens were pleasant to look down at from her bedroom. It would do for now, Anne thought. Who knew, perhaps over time she would also get used to her new title as the King’s Beloved Sister.

Before she could settle down, she still had two pieces of admin left to complete. After mulling over her words for ten days, Anne completed her letter to Henry; and without giving her wedding ring a second look, she slipped it into the envelope. He had made it for her; it felt perfect that he should destroy it too.

She had contemplated handing over the diamond ring too, but it was too pretty for her to even bear thinking about destroying it. She turned the ring over in her hand, transfixed by the way the stone glistened. She would pass on the ring with love, and it would be the only souvenir of her marriage. She pulled up a fresh sheet of paper, and began to write to Amalia.


End file.
